A/N: Chapter 20 (20+ if we count the prologue) is here. With that, I figured it was a good time for an updated thank-you to the readers. Everyone who's favorited or subscribed to CE:FC and CE2:R, and especially those who've left reviews, thank you. It's awesome to have the support.

There's going to be a bunch more content for CE2:R, and being totally unbiased, I gotta say it just gets crazier from here on out. Stick around.

xxxx

Chapter XX – Hell's Respite

Sy & Unknown – Hands of Time

xxxx

I'm back on earth, on one of the tall mountains a few clicks from home. I'm actually on a part that I never ventured to, and for good reason. It's steep; I have to climb a vertical rock face that's unstable in the best spots. I've only got a tank-top and off-duty garb as I scale, and I'm sweating pretty good. My left hand doesn't grip the rocks all that well, but my right – the bionic hand that ends at my wrist – isn't affected.

Well, I'm almost to the top, panting and heaving myself up the rock and placing my feet one last time. I lunge, pushing off my current holds and lunging for the topmost edge. Both my hands get a good grab and so I heave myself up all the way.

It's small area, four by five meters maybe, on top of the rock tower, but it's not the dark brown, crumbly rock that I've had to deal with the entire way up. The ground atop the spire is perfectly smooth, black-and-white hexagon tiles covering the expanse. It's not a big deal or anything, even though I never expected it. I never did see those rocks from right above, so…

She's standing a few meters in front of me.

Rana.

The young commando is smiling faintly as she stands there with her hands clasped loosely in front of her hips. She's wearing a white and yellow satin gown that's flowing in the wind. I can't help but grin as I look her over from head to toe and back again. She keeps watching me and wearing that mischievous little smile as I approach, and as I get closer I can see my reflection in those warm brown eyes. As I set my hands on her hips, I recognize the dull glow of my crimson cybernetic eyes cast upon her irises. I can feel her breath, warmth against the cold air. I can feel her hands caressing my sides as she leans forward.

I jolted awake, sprawled out and half about to fall out of my bunk aboard the Ortona. I quickly caught myself and hung there for a moment, looking down at the poorly-lit black floor, realizing that I felt sick through and through.

Abandoning all hopes of returning to sleep, I swung out of bed and hit the floor as quietly as my bare feet allowed, then stumbled out into the mess hall. Once the door closed behind me, I checked my omni-tool. 0100 hours ship time. I had slept for maybe forty minutes, and no amount of coaxing would bring me back to bed. So I made it to the nearest mess table and sat down and slumped with my head falling into my hands and my palms pushing into my eyes harder than normal. I stayed that way for a good half-minute. Then I let my hands fall to the table and I stared at the edge of the surface.

Rana and the old 517th. A hundred and eighty years, and I could still see them like it was yesterday. Now it only felt like someone had cut my heart out, drove a thousand needles into the muscle and heated them until the metal glowed red.

Never thought I'd be the one to outlive the old 517th. Especially not Rana. It'd always been a silent assumption that I'd die first. Well, that was partly true. I still couldn't quite understand that they were gone. Rana, "MIA" in the Traverse…

I gotta move on.

Easier said than done, though. Trinder was the only person I trusted enough to bring all that up, and he was dead. So I sat there, unsure of what to do.

Really, wishing that Kaira was there so that I could stop having to make tough decisions and be responsible. Being a commander really wasn't all it was chalked up to be. She might know what to do in my shoes, when I was caught between a Spectre and the Contractor with hardly any credits, limited intel, and a small squad. I stretched my shoulders, dully aware of their perpetual protest. I would have to make due.

"Commander Jackson." Maya began over one intercom speaker so that I was the only one to hear. "Would you be willing to discuss a few topics?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "You want a holo on my omni-tool or something? It's weird talking to thin air."

"Very well. I will route my communication interface through the holo." She paused as the bust sprang to life on my omni-tool, using the smaller local speaker as well. "Thank you."

"No problem. So, what did you want to talk about?" I questioned, leaning on my left elbow as I watched the small hologram rising from my forearm.

"First, I wanted to let you know that I recovered some data from the Hyetiana base while you were there." The AI explained. "The facility was attacked by the 687th commando unit."

"Wait… but…" I began to protest, thinking back to my tussle with the Asari Spectre. "They gave TIER to the Contractor to start this shit!"

"That is correct. With Viola's information, I was able to trace a data feed back to the AMF Retryna. There is no doubt that they handed us to the Contractor on the metaphorical silver plate."

Seemed to me we were dealing with increasingly reckless double-agents. "So Tyva was lying when she said she didn't work for the Contractor."

"Perhaps not. She is not alone on her ship. It is possible that another crew member was responsible."

"Shit…" I grumbled, already tired and not quite thinking straight. I hated unknowns and right then, there were a whole bunch.

"When you were in close quarters, I also took the liberty of launching a digital strike against Spectre T'Jeka. Her omni-tool was difficult to decrypt as it did not use standard firmware, but I was successful in planting a passive runtime that will transmit her locale to you."

"So now we're tracking her?" I asked, quickly perking up upon hearing good news.

"That is correct."

"Damn fine work, Maya." I praised, mind starting to turn wild thoughts. "Any chance the Contractor could find that link?"

"No. Not unless he has access to the Spectre's omni-tool or yours." Maya explained. "I was able to extract the dossier she has formed for the former TIER commander and leader of the 517th Division Lancers. She still does not have a name."

I shook my head. At least I had a name for the Spectre chasing me around in circles.

"She also wants to apprehend, not kill, you. There were specific parameters to take you in to custody with minimal damages."

"Minimal damages?" A quiet chuckle escaped me; she was going to need more than luck to take me down without a fight. Hyetiana proved that.

"With that said, I would still advise caution. The Spectre is a rogue player. The Council specifically assigned her to the Terminus to stay away from any political discord."

"Noted." I began cracking my knuckles against the table idly.

Maya was silent for a second before she glanced around. "I have also been monitoring Viola T'Vintha, both through video feeds and in-armor vital sensors. While she still seems emotionally distant compared to most people I am able to study, I detect no signs of ill intent or lying patterns."

"Well, that's good. She hasn't tried to pull anything funny?"

"No. On the contrary, she was receptive towards my requests for information."

"It's not the first time Contractors have turned on their boss. I knew quite a few in the last war."

"I see." The AI nodded. "I am able to find little information on the first Contractor. Was the Citadel affected by his reign?"

"Oh yeah. He had a Councilor on his side, and he invaded the entire station for a while. Had troops stationed throughout. Marshal law, pretty much."

"May I ask what became of the Councilor that he induced?"

"She betrayed my squad and the rest of the Council. I drove a blade through her head." I replied matter-of-fact.

"Interesting. I assumed, as you were on a Spectre-led squad, you would have had more respect for the Council."

"I did. Right up until she forked us over to the enemy." I shook my head. "Didn't have much respect for her after that."

"I see. I am still trying to formulate a sense of morality into my operating parameters."

"Then I'm probably not the best example." I chuckled. Rather dry humor coming from someone like me.

"I would disagree." Maya stated. "While we share some thought processes, creating a control in which to compare additional threads, you continue to operate on good intentions. You chose to let Spectre T'Jeka and her squad live even when you realized they were a liability."

"I didn't need unnecessary causalities." I shrugged a little.

"That is exactly why you serve as a good example."

xxxx

I found ways to stay busy and awake for the rest of the early morning ship-time. I had switched back to my assassin armor, leaving my weapons but the MR13 in the locker but seeing no reason to be in casual wear.

Even on my own frigate, unshielded fabric made me feel vulnerable. So I tromped around in my armor and allowed my nerves some rest. For a while Jarka, Maya and me were the only ones awake. One of us didn't have to sleep; one didn't need but a few hours and the third should have been asleep.

I was back at the mess table, reading through the roster for some big fancy fucking lecture on post-war cybernetics. The original had been given on the Citadel, but the conversation was spreading with the unkempt diatribes that usually accompanied politics. Somehow bionic enhancements and replacements had become a hot topic, shunned in some places, revered in others, and politicized throughout. There were vets from the Reaper War, from all of the races from what I could tell, that either had or supported bionics to restore functionality. There were scientists pushing for improvement over natural form. There were lawmakers and peacekeepers pointing at the Reapers as a damn good reason to avoid anything to do with cybernetics. Then there were a bunch of religious zealots who had never left their homeworlds during the War but still thought they had all the right answers for the galaxy.

I was drawn in, whether I wanted to be or not. I was a full fledged cyborg, a Reaper creation nonetheless. Unless I wanted to get killed, ripped apart for science, or turned into a martyr, I had to lay low and stay off of most people's radar. So far so good, right?

It was nearly 0630 hours. Soon enough the rest of the squad would be up and milling about. We would be back to Illium that night. Then we could go from there. We didn't have enough credits to launch another raid towards Therum, so it would probably be back to Calvin for another job assignment on Illium, biding time while the Contractor did his thing and we stayed on the run.

Viola was nearly silent as she approached then sat down at the table a half-meter to my right. I watched the Asari with dull surprise as she rested her hands on the table with a regal air; she glance to me and nodded. "Commander."

"Viola." I replied, closing my omni-tool and sitting straight ahead as I looked over at her. "Any updates?"

The ex-Contractor shook her head as she sat there in casual gear. "No. I've been working with the ship AI and trying to uncover any useful leads. So far we've come up with nothing."

I shrugged a little, fought back a sleepless yawn, and continued. "Well, we're gonna have to do more work before we have the creds to do anything."

"I had hoped that we would have been able to salvage more of the Hyetiana station, at least repurpose enough credits to keep surging forward." Behind that cold voice, she sounded disappointed. "Instead we found a Mk.25 nest."

"Yeah… You know if the eyeports are the only weak points on Mk.25s?" I asked, fiddling with the armor mask I had lying on the table.

"I don't know all of their structural weaknesses. We were never briefed on how to fight them."

"Fair enough." I agreed begrudgingly. I might have been more receptive of the ex-Contractor had she shown a little bit of warmth. Instead, she fell back behind the cold shell. It bugged the hell out of me.

"I may not deserve it, but I hope someday my actions are responsible for forging my name, not the banner I used to carry."

"I hope so too." Shaking my head, I pressed my lips together and decided to fall into story time. "I told you about one of the Contractor deserters, Ryala. She ended up co-leading the final assault to Hyetiana. Anyway, there was another. An Elite trooper by the name of Faeven. I don't remember her last name. She followed her orders all the way through, but got in a squabble with a more ambitious commandant. Long story short, she ended up getting beaten half to death and broken by her own boss. The two of us escaped a Contractor facility together, worked together during countless attacks. She was a comms engineer. Really smart. Gave us a huge edge on the Contractor. But she'd never go back to the field. I remember when she finally did. Arvada. We were leading a huge counteroffensive. I ended up going toe-to-toe with the commandant that had Faeven beaten and broken. He was stronger than me, mostly because of bionics, and he probably would have killed me."

I shook my head before I continued. "Faeven stepped into the fight, drove a katana into him. He returned the favor and killed her on the spot, but that was all we needed to turn the tide. Not just that one fight, but the whole war. She gave her life for the cause. Not for redemption, but because she knew it was the right thing to do. And she was partially indoctrinated the whole time."

Viola had listened to my speech silently, and by the way her eyes were darting about, scanning my face and making genuine eye contact… Well, there was something different in the way the Asari was looking at me. There was some sign of life behind those violet eyes. Fires starting to flare back to life. "This is only the beginning, isn't it?"

"I hope not." I grimaced. "But yeah. I saw a lot of good people die during the last Contractor war. Myself included."

"Perhaps I am no Faeven, but I have revenge. There was a combatant that killed my sister, and I will make him pay." She paused. "And I will do what I can to aid in taking down the Contractor once more."

"I believe you." I replied, smiling faintly, and for the first time, thinking that Viola was on our side consciously. Not just because she didn't know where else to run.

The Asari adept watched me for several seconds more, then hesitantly lifted her right hand and drew a finger against the lines under my left eye. "Jac- Forrest. When did you last sleep?"

I looked at her, puzzled for a moment. Not because of her reaching out, but because I didn't have an answer to that question. "Proper? I dunno. Maybe five days ago."

Viola bobbed her head in acknowledgement and her hand retreated. "If this is the beginning, then you need to learn how to pace yourself. You might be able to burn bright during a fight, but nobody can sustain that sort of pace." She paused. "There's something beyond the war, isn't there?"

"Yeah. A past life with lots of loose ends." I rubbed my eyes as I paused, trying to push through the fatigue. "Every time I try to sleep, I either see the past lives I've broken, or the future where I can't do shit to keep things from falling apart."

"This is because of a lover, isn't it?"

I snorted with some twisted amusement before I drew the small picture of Rana and me on the Citadel, set it on the table, and slid it towards Viola. That was all I needed to say.

The Asari looked at the print for two seconds then looked back to me. "She was a commando."

"Yeah. How can you tell?"

"My sister and I had a business based off of sizing people up. Muscle mass, posture, discomfort with dresses. Commandos are easy to pick out."

I nodded. "Well, there you go. That's from a long time ago."

"From the original Contractor war?"

"That was the last time I was in action." I affirmed, shook my head as I took the picture back and stared at it for several seconds before returning it to my armor. "Didn't even get to say good-bye."

Viola looked back to the metal mess table and hesitated with her mouth half open before she finally spoke. "There's no feeling worse than losing someone so close without a final word. Torn apart by death and without warning… I understand that far too well. But you – your commando might still be alive somewhere. I cannot say the same."

"I'm sorry." I muttered, not knowing what else to say.

"Death seems oddly certain, but you have proven it is not always final." Viola commented. "If you are to lose sleep over the commando, at least confirm she's still alive."

xxxx

I was nearly to the base of the stairs, right to Engineering and the Armory, when Sam came huffing out of the Armory. I didn't know what had gotten her so riled up, but she didn't even notice me standing there five meters away before she vanished into Engineering.

For a good several seconds I stood there on the last step of the stairs and stared at the shut door, rather taken aback by the drama. Instead of harassing her more, I opted to venture into the Armory to see what had gotten her so worked up. I didn't figure she would have been in the armory in the first place, but she was, so there was a high likelihood that Jakur said something ungainly.

I shook my head as I turned towards the armory and waited for the door to open all the way before I stepped in.

There was Jakur, working on a magnum pistol of some sorts, glancing up as I stood there and pausing whatever replacement or upgrade he had underway. "Hey Commander."

"Jakur." I noted as I glanced around. The rest of the armory seemed to be in good nick – really the same as it always was, minus a few crates that the solider had stored at the Lancer base. "What happened with Sam?"

"That… I, uh…" The Batarian began, looking back to the pistol as he got flustered. "She brought a pistol by for general upkeep. We talked for a few, then I worked up to complimenting her Doomsday armor. Then she stormed off."

"What exactly did you tell her?"

"Well," Jakur scratched the side of his head, "I said she looked really big." He quickly added: "I mean, I meant it as a compliment! Like on the last Illium raid, she was able to keep our force spearheaded cuz of size alone."

"Yeah…" I drawled and shook my head. "I can kind of see why there was a problem there. I don't think she'd take lightly to be called big."

The soldier looked at me with a puzzled expression, all four eyes focusing on me. "Dude… I meant it like, like in a badass sort of way. I never meant it like she was fat or anything like that!"

"Well, judging by her reaction I'd say that she definitely took it that way." I chuckled silently, lamenting at the mess Jakur had gotten himself into. "I'll go talk to her. Make sure she doesn't shank you or anything. But then you should probably clarify what you meant by big."

"Yeah, since she took the jive the wrong way." Jakur agreed somewhat begrudgingly. "Since you're here though…"

Well, that was a bad way to start. I nodded and listened.

"Well, I was just thinking about the last mission and running into that Spectre again. It's gonna be really, really bad if she catches up to us now, huh?"

I shook my head and scoffed. "Hardly. Say she does manage to track us down and actually arrest us. I might get charged with a few things, but you and the rest will get off easy. And that's worse case, if she catches us. At this rate, we'll have half the galaxy between us."

"You're really not worried about it?" Jakur seemed shocked. "We're talking about a Spectre here!"

"No. You definitely shouldn't worry about it."

"Man, I don't like running from a law dog like that, but I get it. I wouldn't stay around to chat her up either."

I laughed quietly as I paced around the armory absentminded-like. "Yeah, she didn't really want to talk last time. Can't say I hold it against her, but hey."

"Yeah. Back in basic, there was this one girl, Karen, I think. She was a firecracker, dude. Won all these sparring matches, got everyone scared. I guess I didn't hear about that before I stepped into the ring. Anyway, her trick was to blind her opponent and then take 'em down. Just a quick jab to the eyes and bam! Heh. That didn't work so well on me. I caught her off guard and it was fight over. For some reason, she never wanted to talk to me after that. I never bragged on it or anything."

"Can't imagine." I replied sardonically. "Delina… remember her?"

"One of your old commando buddies?" Jakur's face seemed to light up. He even stopped working.

"Yeah." I chuckled. "She liked to spar. I don't think I ever beat her, no matter how hard I tried. Tied once or twice, but that was the best. I guess that's what happens when you grow up in the Terminus and choose to live on Omega."

"What, you get beat up a lot?"

"Either that or you learn how to fight really, really well."

xxxx

Sam jumped as I stepped into engineering, then immediately settled back into her slouched position sitting on a bench and against the wall as she ran her omni-tool and held onto another haptic device with her free hand. "Sorry boss. I panicked for a sec. I didn't want to have Viola or Jakur dropping by. Dang, I'd rather talk to Torr then either of those two."

"Have you talked to Viola since the tracking beacon incident?"

The blonde shrugged, tossing the free omni-tool to the side and ruffling the side of her hair. "Eh, not really. She hasn't brought anything up, and I'm not going out of my way for that bitch."

I shook my head. Viola was doing a damn poor job of integrating herself in the 517th. On one hand, that was a good sign. She definitely wasn't some scrooge trying to rip us for info. On the other hand, she probably didn't know what she was looking for or loyal to. I didn't mention any of that to Sam, of course. I'd hear enough about Asari from the Doomsday operator as it was. "So why the sudden beef with Jakur?"

Sam groaned. "It's a long story, but basically he called me fat."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I heard it with my own ears, so yeah, pretty much."

"Those were his exact words?" I questioned.

"Well, not really. He said I looked big in my armor. Something along those lines." She paused, glanced over at me and my skeptical watch from across the small room, and defended: "Look, it's a touchy subject, ok? I had like one bad year where that was all I heard."

"Fair enough, but we both know how bad Jakur is with wording things."

Sam chortled for several seconds. "Yeah he is. But what if he really meant it?"

"Well," I started as I returned her gaze, "I guess that would give you a reason to slap him upside the head."

Sam raised both of her eyebrows.

"If that's really what he meant." I clarified.

"Right, ok. I can deal with that. I still don't really wanna talk to him, but…"

"But what?"

"But I guess I'll do it. In a little bit."

I growled in frustration. She could have won any number of procrastination contests, so long as they were held tomorrow.

"Oh hey!" Sam suddenly piped up. "I nearly forgot. While we were waiting around on Illium, I jacked some schematics for EMP grenades. I brought one with us to that cold as hell planet, even got the chance to test it on a Mk.25. Gotta say… it worked pretty good."

"Well cool. How much did these schematics cost?" I probed. We were tight on credits as it was.

"Um, well, they should have cost as much as one frigate, but…" She looked away sheepishly. "I just sorta downloaded them. Sorry commander."

I shook my head and smiled. "I approve. Good move."

"Well damn. I thought after all your time with the commandos, you'd have more issues with breaking rules like that."

"Believe me, I broke my share of rules on the first 517th."

"Oho." Sam was just fucking beaming. "Any to do with fraternizing the crew?"

"Pretty sure you know the answer to that."

xxxx

I was just leaving engineering when I caught movement out of the corner of my left eye. Something in the hold.

It was Torr, swinging his axe wildly at the air, launching forward, spinning, slicing once or twice and then carrying on, all the while muttering incoherently. Training, maybe. Or maybe making up for the lack of a good fight on Hyetiana. Either way, I watched silently for several seconds.

The psycho came to a panting stop, shoulders heaving with his back turned towards me. Since he didn't look like he was going anywhere, I called out. "Torr!"

He glanced over his shoulder, nodded and tossed his axe into the air as he turned to face me. He first tried to catch the airborne weapon with his right hand, fumbled, then snatched it with his left right before it hit the deck. "Forrest. What brings you down here?"

"Just checking up on everything. I'm used to wandering around a ship."

"Ha." He muttered, hanging the axe on his belt. "I like the confinement. I don't like being stuck without things to kill though."

"Hyetiana was a bit of letdown for a fight, eh?"

"Hardly. That place scared me. There were too many of those blade-chopping machines. They're stronger than me." Torr twitched and began pacing around.

"They might be stronger than any of us, but we can still kill 'em. Stun and go for the eyeport."

"First Mender and now an army of machines. This Contractor knows well enough that fear tastes like blood in your mouth. That terrifying trickle running down the back of your throat, stronger as you fight harder and know that every swing could be your last." He took a deep breath and continued ranting. "I've never known fear, not on Korlus, not Omega, not against packs of my brethren, not against Krogan warlords. They're all the same, blood coursing through flesh. Slice them and they will bleed, sooner or later the life will spill out of them and pool onto the floor. But a machine. They have no blood, no life."

"They still die." I pointed out. "It just takes a little more work."

"So it is." The Vorcha replied, finally sitting still as he perched on the fender of a hoverbike, squatted down with his arms hanging loose by his sides. "This war reminds me of Korlus."

"How's that?"

"I couldn't control the violence in my veins. I killed everything that looked at me wrong. I made enemies everywhere. Before I figured it out, I was the only one against an army. I figured out when to flank and finish. I struck one target and vanished. I started to control the blood. First I just had a rusty scrap of iron. Then I had the knife some merc threw at me. It wasn't until Omega that I found my axe." He paused, looked at me with those blood-red eyes and asked. "Have your own eyes seen Korlus?"

"Once, yeah. Had one of my first missions there. Turned into a bloodbath. I nearly got killed before I took out this Asari warlord."

"How'd you do it? Kill her, I mean?"

"I ended up kicking her off of a ship. Sent her into the scraps below. Must have been several hundred meters in a dust storm."

"You find the best fights." Torr gleamed.

"They seem to find me." I noted with some disappointment.

"Which is why," Torr started, hopping off the hoverbike, "I'll follow you into this hell of a war."

"Well, at least I can count on the support." I nodded. "Thanks for that."

"Just teach me how to kill those Mk.25s and I'll carve you a road made of blood and flesh, bone and broken circuit-deals. I'll rip them apart, break their joints until the light of their eyes go dark behind the armor plating. Mark them and I'll slash them down."

"So long as it's Contractors we're felling."

"I'll do what I can. Keep that Spectre out of my way and she won't fall like the rest."

"And Viola?"

"She's no threat. Full of fear and broken. Not even worth a kill."

"Alright. Just checking." I shook my head. "Glad you're on our squad. We need to keep mobile."

"That's all I've ever done. Now we've got the Contractor chasing us one way and the enforcers the other." Torr laughed, like he actually enjoyed it all. "Never stop moving, never stay in the same place too long, and keep your axe bloody."

xxxx

"Sooo… You're sure about this?" Sam boomed in her Doomsday armor, sitting on the bench of the gunship next to Jakur and opposite the other three of us. "Are we seriously dropping into an abandoned city looking for scrap?"

"It's worth a shot." I shrugged. "Not far out of our way, and ya never know."

"Reports indicated that Watson evacuated quickly during the Reaper War." Viola explained, closing her omni-tool as she sat to my right. "It's possible some resources are still intact."

"I don't like the groove, man. Ghost-towns and all… I dunno. Reminds me too much of heading back to Khar'Shan."

"Five fire five… what's the point if there's no fight?"

We all seemed to ignore Torr's comment.

"Good news -" Jarka damn near beamed over the intercom. "It appears that the gunship should have enough fuel to make it planetside, and then most of the way back!"

"Most of the way?" I questioned.

"Yes, most of the way. I may have to coast back into the hold."

"Gee, that's great." Sam commented. "Maybe we have enough air in our armor to make it back, too huh?"

"I dunno dude, it's not all bad." Jakur shook his head. "The big change – not getting shot at for once? I'm chill with that."

"In theory, yeah." I glanced down to the voltage carbine already in my lap. That theory seldom held up in my experience. Nobody else seemed convinced either – even Jakur had his rifle out.

"We're headed towards one of the larger settlements near the equator." The pilot noted. "If there's anything worth saving, it'll probably be there."

I nodded while we all fell silent. The final descent always got choppy. Not terrible, but enough that we didn't want to converse. I stared at my rifle, turned it over in my hands, hoping that the small detour wasn't going to cost us big-time. Didn't seem that Contractor had any interest in the distant human settlement, and the Spectre was at best days behind us.

Yeah. We'll be fine. I thought to myself as I sat there and waited for the gunship to touch down. It wasn't long, either. A dull rattle of the landing struts, then the whole ship swayed to absorb the impact. Soon as it was down I was on my feet and at the back of the gunship, damn near pushing the ramp down with Torr right on my heels.

We unloaded out into an empty street.

I had the CVC2 pressed to my shoulder as I scanned the surrounding area, the street chipped and cobbled with grass growing through the cracks. Three story buildings on both sides, windows all missing and the few trees left to grow had well taken over. Not a single wrecked shuttle or body in sight. Only a city-hall looking building a hundred meters down the street. It was in about as rough a shape, too, one tree even growing through the roof.

"Empty home, empty veins and pretty things." Torr hissed, right behind my shoulder. The rest of the squad was clustered not far behind.

"Watson was one of the few colony worlds to have adequate time for evacuation." Maya informed over our comm-sets. "Alliance records are damaged, but most cities appear to have been 100% evacuated."

"There was this dude in basic who said he was from Watson. Didn't seem to hang with anyone, but he seemed alright enough. Always hinged on about some land compromise back home." Jakur shook his head, Viper across his chest as he looked over to the right side of the street.

"Any comms traffic bouncing around, Maya?" I wondered as I stepped over a 30-cm wide crack in the street.

"I am only detecting yours. Furthermore, I see no thermal images in your area." The AI reported. "You are clear for the time being."

I didn't say anything more as I nodded and kept moving up. There was no way I could call the place a colony – not with the streets and permanent buildings and all. Maybe a former town at the smallest.

"So boss." Sam boomed, each step sending out a small vibration in the broken concrete. "Is this like the small town you were from? On earth?"

I had to look around to check. Here, there buildings more than three stories tall. "Nah. Think smaller."

"Seriously? Like actually smaller than this little camp?"

"Yeah. A lot smaller." I glanced back to the gunship before starting up the steps of the city hall. "And I didn't really live there."

"Sounds almost like some of the wood-hoppers on Zavalon." Jakur commented.

"The what?" Sam and I asked at the same time.

"Wood-hoppers." The soldier repeated. "Maybe that was just what we called the little groups out in the jungle. We always figured they were there, but ya never saw them. I'm pretty sure they lived in tree houses and the like."

"Wouldn't surprise me if the boss did stuff like that." Sam snorted, seeming playful enough with her jab.

"Only for a little while."

Viola glanced over, evidently unsure what to think or say about that.

"I'd like to see Earth one of these days." Sam commented. "Haven't been since I was, I dunno, five."

I chuckled as I reached the top of the steps. "It's changed a bit since the last time I was there."

"Holy… yeah." Jakur rubbed the side of his helmet.

"Yeah." I agreed, then shouldered into the door once. The frame was already off, and so the two swinging doors buckled. I stepped into the old city hall.

No light but the illuminated patch on the floor, where a section of ceiling had collapsed. I skirted around it, making sure to stay in the shadow, keeping an eye out as I moved down the wide hallway. Behind me, Sam bashed into the door again to make enough room for her armor. Torr and Jakur stayed right by me, but Viola had wandered off to look at a layout plaque to the right.

"Jackson." The ex-Contractor called out. "It says that there was a vault in this building."

"Yeah? What's in it?"

"It doesn't specify. If it's intact… probably lots of credit chips. Potentially some eezo bars."

"We should totally look." Sam stomped forward with sudden excitement. "Eezo bars are worth, like, a few billion credits a bar."

"Whoa dude." Jakur shook his head and holstered his rifle. "Are we actually talking about busting a vault? That… doesn't seem right by me."

"Won't hurt anyone." I shrugged and slung the CVC2 over my shoulder. "Not like these folks are coming back anytime."

Viola didn't look away from the plaque, tracing a route with her left finger. "Larkwood, if you have a better suggest of how we can net enough credits to keep the ship fueled, I believe we would all listen."

The Batarian shook his head and looked down.

"All the fuss over fancy numbers." Torr scowled, then tossed a rock down the hallway.

"Let's at least see what's up." I decided, nodding as we started to move out.

"It's downstairs. Second stairway on the left." Viola noted as we fell back into formation.

Nobody said a word as we moved through the empty halls, nobody slowing and nobody too much on edge. Torr was sniffing at the air. Soon enough, there were stairs dropping to the left. With my omni-tool light activated, I began the descent.

Each stair kicked up dust.

Two levels down, we reached the end of the stairs, where they dumped into a smaller room longer than it was wide. And on the far end… well, I could only assume it was a vault. A massive metal door with two hinges (each bigger than my armored head) on one side, then two countersunk bars latching it shut on the opposite side. As I got closer, I could see countless marks on the metal around the latches. Scrapes and scratches from different forms of prying, burnt lines from plasma cutters, cut marks from saws.

"This should be good." Sam chuckled. A floodlight on her shoulder gave us all the light we needed to see what was going on. "Looks like a powered lock. No way to open it without generators and all that crap."

"Any other way to get it open?" I asked. "No manual override?"

"Nah. I spent half of a summer trying to figure out how you could crack one of these. There's seriously tons of ways as long as you have the hardware powered."

"Well, we don't."

"What about the spinning calf-cutters?" Torr asked, pointing to the hinges. Good thing, or else I'd have had no idea what he was on about.

"Doesn't look like anyone's tried breaking the hinges." I clarified. "Sam… wanna hit it with a rail shot?"

"Oho, do I ever!" The Doomsday operator sounded ecstatic even through the voice modulator, and the rest of us knew well enough to step to the sides as she lumbered into position and leaned into the right arm of the armor. She fired.

The blue streak went from the cannon to the hinge, and before any of us could even react, went right back and narrowly missed Samantha before smacking into the far wall next to the stairs and kicking up a whole bunch of debris.

As the room went back to quiet, Viola shook her head. "Let's not try that again."

"Yeah." I agreed. "Bad idea."

"I thought it was pretty awesome." Sam didn't even seemed bothered by the ricochet.

"Well… plan B. Think your armor can punch through?"

"If the rail shot couldn't, uh-uh. So not going to happen."

Viola spoke up again. "It might happen if I provided mass manipulation."

Sam didn't say a word as she turned to glare back at the Asari.

"It's worth a try." I encouraged.

"Fine." Sam grumbled, then tromped up to the door, braced, pulled her right arm back for a punch, and when everything was ready, she asked: "How do you want to do this?"

Viola stood a few meters away. "Punch at your own volition and I'll take care of the timing."

The Doomsday armor shrugged and not a second later drove her fist forward. About the time that her arm reached max velocity, a biotic field swelled around the metal fist. And then the blow hit the hinge. Maybe under normal circumstances Sam's armor would have given first. But with mass increased well beyond reasonable parameters… Sam stopped with her arm sunk into the door and the hinge was shattered.

"One down." Sam grunted as she tried to pull her arm back, succeeded, then braced to strike again. Underhand that time around. The process was repeated. Viola did her assist, and the second hinge was toast. That left the Doomsday operator to reposition and try pulling on door. It wasn't budging.

I didn't much like the prospect of failing when we were so close. "Everyone get in there!"

So there we were, all five us crammed in and prying on the same damn door. Torr had even made his way up onto Sam's shoulder to grab the door. All of us were putting our backs in. All we got was a creak. A tiny little noise from the door.

That was all the warning before the latch gave and the door came out of its frame. We all went falling back, sprawling in each and every way as the dust settled.

I got out of the mess relatively fast, since only Torr had fallen on my head and he was quick back on his feet and out of the way. In a second, we were all back on our feet – less Sam. Jakur was making an effort to try to and give the Doomsday armor a hand up, and while Sam took him up on it, it was still an armored suit that weighed more than the rest of us combined. It was all the soldier could do to help out. She only growled. "Don't say anything..."

I had already gotten my attention back towards the open vault, using my omni-tool light to survey the contents. Disappointed panic started to set in. Only five meters deep, the vault was mostly empty. There were shelves along all three walls, but what I could see, they were all empty.

That didn't bode well.

None of us were saying a damned word. I kept moving into the vault, scanning over the shelves that had already been cleared out. Nothing. Every single one was clear. Right until the very back, where something gleamed as my light shone over it. I picked up a metal bar half the size of my forearm. Light grey, almost blue metal. I turned it over once, then tossed it to Viola.

She took one look at it and nodded. "Eezo."

"Seriously?" Sam exclaimed.

"Yes. We'll need a fence, but it'll fetch us plenty of credits."

"Holy shit dude. I heard zero was in short supply after the war, but dang." Jakur shook his head.

"All this fussy for the bar that shines?" Torr wondered, leaning in to get a closer look.

"For a billion credits?" I laughed. "Hell yeah."

"Less a percentage." Viola clarified as she stood there holding the eezo bar in both hands.

"Dude, you sure there isn't anything else tucked in here?" Jakur asked as he peered past me, scanning the shelves over just to be sure.

I nodded. Hard to argue with empty shelves. "Alright. Let's hit the road before trouble finds us."

Sam chuckled and started to lumber towards the stairs."Totally worth it. You ever do stuff like this back on earth?"

"Can't say I've busted vaults before, no."

"Nah, I mean like jumping the old wagon trains and jacking gold bars. The kind of earth rowdies that we only got stories of on the Citadel."

"I'm pretty sure they stopped using wagons well before I was born."

"Oh come on, boss. That's so not fun."

"Dude, since ya mentioned it… I can kinda see the Commander running horseback with an old centerfire rifle in his hands."

"That might have happened."

Sam persisted as we climbed the stairs. "What about the wagon full of gold bars, though?"

"Was always looking for it in the summers. There were supposed to be a few they lost off side the trail."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. There were some old mines around home, and even more stories about all these stashes. Never could find any of them though."

Viola sounded skeptical. "Implying you actually tried."

"Sure as hell. It was good fun then."

"Boss…" Roxin started, sounding downright worried. "I really don't think that's a concept she'd understand."

Torr and Viola were both silent. Seemed likely the latter was holding back just to keep the peace.

"Sam…" I withheld a chuckle, knowing it was a good jab. "Now's not the time."

xxxx